


ever distant

by Dayadhvam



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayadhvam/pseuds/Dayadhvam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While they wait outside the church, Archer exchanges a few words with Saber and suppresses the urge to say more—for what then would she make of him?</p><p>(Sound and fury, signifying nothing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	ever distant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [failsafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/gifts).



> The UBW S2 extra material indicates that Archer's original 5th Holy Grail War was basically an alternate take on the Fate route. Just as Excalibur's other name is the Sword of Promised Victory, so Avalon's other name is the Ever Distant Utopia—thus the title. Ha ha ha, what about that utopia, Archer?
> 
> Happy trick-or-treat!

He had walked into hell, and let the endless grind of his afterlife spin thin his memory like tattered spider webs, but some impressions still remained: the heft of a red gem in his palm, a song and a smile shadowed with pain, a pink ribbon trod into the dirt among insect carcasses. Eyes like twin jewels, hair like wrought gold. If only, if only he could picture the sword in all its perfection. _From this time forth—_

He looked down at Saber as he ghosted along the rooftop, then jumped down to disturb her silent vigil. She tensed, her stance no less menacing even with her armor hidden under that ugly yellow raincoat. If I destroyed it, Archer thought, I'd be doing her a favor. Though it’d be a paltry favor, if he still failed to persuade her of the futility of her wish and what would come thereafter. Saber, he wanted to say, do you truly want to be a Counter Guardian? Do you want to be like me?

But she did not know him. What useless questions these were.

He said, “It’s a pity your master’s so untalented that you can’t dematerialize.” Raised his eyebrows, and curled the corners of his mouth. “Saber.”

She turned to look at him. For a moment, memory and reality blurred into a hazy image of silver and blue—and then the dream shattered, and he was no longer the boy but the eternal ghost. Her gaze upon him held little warmth.

“Don’t waste your time on useless insults, Archer,” Saber replied. For someone who had been wounded by Gae Bolg and saddled with a faulty mana supply (the boy was, of course, inadequate), she looked serenely confident. The King of Knights, he thought, and was not surprised. “Save your breath for a later fight—and perhaps you’ll fare better the next time we cross swords.”

“Oh?” Archer smiled abruptly, without rancor; Saber looked startled at the sight, though she hid her reaction well. “But I am weak to unexpected developments, like you and your invisible sword.”

 _From this time forth, my sword shall be with you..._ Eternity had turned that into a lie. He couldn’t follow the correct procedure anymore, as he had when he was younger. Even if he had never traced Excalibur again—even if it'd be nothing but a fake—he had remembered, then. At least he had remembered.

Promised victory. That too was a lie. After death he had found only defeat.

“That won’t be a problem for you,” Saber said. “Surely you can judge my sword regardless. Archers have excellent eyesight, after all.” She sounded as artlessly sincere as Rin had—which was to say, not at all: _oh, so you really are an archer!_

And so he was, among other roles that had called to him. “All-seeing but not all-knowing. Otherwise I would’ve saved myself a great deal of trouble in my youth.”

Saber gave him a guarded look. “Archer, I doubt you’re here to tell me your childhood stories.” Unless, came her silent challenge, you want to divulge your identity to me?

He didn’t reply immediately. He ought to have expected coldness as an enemy Servant, yet it had crept up upon him unawares. You fool, he reminded himself. After the fourth Holy Grail War, after Kiritsugu, after her return to Camlann… why shouldn’t she be impatient?

“Ah,” he said lowly, and stepped back. “I only felt like talking.”

She blinked. “Then speak,” she told him, given like a command, and waited expectantly for his reply.

But she did not know him. An eternal ghost, who relived a few scraps of memory in a neverending loop. _From this time forth, my sword shall be with you…_

He said nothing. Shrugged, as if he had grown bored of the conversation, before he dematerialized and unceremoniously left her behind in the dark. _My sword shall be with you_ , Saber had said, once upon a time. Eyes like twin jewels, hair like wrought gold: the moonlight had crowned her head with shining splendor. _And your fate shall be with me. Now our contract is complete._

Break it, thought Archer. Break it. Don’t walk into hell like me.

**Author's Note:**

> The song is [Die Lorelei](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QsxLRrnnmA).
> 
> You can decide if Archer means the contract between Shirou and Saber, or the contract between Saber and the world, or both. :D


End file.
